


Precognition

by five6793



Series: Character Studies [1]
Category: Julius Caesar - Shakespeare
Genre: Character Study, Ficlet, Gen, I have no idea how to tag this lmao, Mentions of Suicide, Precognition, according to google with the word count this is a flash fiction, screw it might as well name it precognition cause im not thinking of anything better than that, theres mentions of death and violence but nothing explicit hence the teen rating, this is incredibly short basically a ficlet, um, you know what - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29390859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/five6793/pseuds/five6793
Summary: He still thought that they should have killed Antony, though. Nothing good could come of letting him speak at Caesar's funeral.
Series: Character Studies [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2166711
Kudos: 1





	Precognition

**Author's Note:**

> no proofreading we die like idiots  
> i played fast and loose with the timeline of the play i know that Caesar's funeral comes right after the Great Stabbing of '44 but i simply didnt vibe with that <3
> 
> Edit: I. I really misspelled Caesar every time i wrote it huh. Well its fixed now lmao  
> Edit 2, Electric boogaloo: i successfully unfucked the formatting! there are now distinctly separate paragraphs

Cassius stared down at the blank page in front of him. Brutus had recommended journaling, saying it helped to write down what was wrong when the world felt like it was ending.  


The problem was, Cassius didn’t know _why_ he felt like this. Like everything was going to go horribly wrong. Caesar was dead! They had succeeded! The plan had worked!  


He still thought that they should have killed Antony, though. At the very least, Brutus shouldn’t have agreed to let him _speak in Caesar’s funeral_ tomorrow. He would rile the crowd, and they’d shout for blood in the streets of the renewed republic. Cassius was struck with the images of a revolt, of people screaming, declaring the conspirators traitors against Rome, dishonorable men, foul and brutal murderers; he saw a man- Cinna the poet, if he remembered right- being torn to bits beneath a crowd for sharing Cinna’s name. Visions of armies, lists, deaths, flashed before his eyes, _Portia killing herself; himself being stabbed at his own request; Titinius stabbing himself with his own sword; Brutus running on to a sword, held dutifully by a servant as he-_  


Cassius screwed his eyes shut. Best not to think on such things.  


He turned over the journal in his hands. Leather-bound, and empty, except for where a few pages had been torn out to write fake anonymous letters to Brutus. He thought about the letters, their contents and signatures. It hadn’t felt right, tricking his friend. But the morality hadn’t been what concerned him. It had felt like a domino, falling over beneath his fingers as he stared at the last one in the row, large and imposing and speaking only doom. Yet he’d done it anyway. And now It was done. Caesar was dead, and Cassius had the blood on his hands. It was domino two. He opened his eyes again and wrote in the journal.  


_Caesar is dead. Rome is free from tyranny. I wish it was over._  


He paused, his stylus faltering. The images came back, like visions.  


_Everyone is going to die._

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! <3 comment if you feel like it!


End file.
